


Goodbye Doesn't Have to be Forever

by goalielove43



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Confessions, Goodbyes, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, NAHL, NM Ice Wolves, Other, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21793933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goalielove43/pseuds/goalielove43
Summary: It’s hard not to let it feel like forever, when it kind of is. He’s happy and he’s sad and he’s goddamned elated that he’s heading to D1 hockey at Union.
Relationships: Josh Graziano/Keenan Johnson/Drew Lorinchak, Keenan Johnson/Drew Lorinchak
Kudos: 3





	Goodbye Doesn't Have to be Forever

**Author's Note:**

> My heart is breaking, now yours is, too. (Happy ending, but... -sniff-)  
Beta: Jess

It’s hard not to let it feel like forever, when it kind of is. He’s happy and he’s sad and he’s goddamned elated that he’s heading to D1 hockey at Union. It’s a feeling that’s been rolling in his stomach since he got the call with the offer. It only grew once he accepted and the instant he had to tell his team. 

His team. That’s what’s making this so hard. The group of guys that have made his life fantastic these past few months, have accepted him for everything he is and hugged him after every game and beamed at him when he did well and consoled him when he didn’t feel like he’d done enough. They’ve done so much together and it feels like leaving family behind more so than leaving his actual family did. Maybe because he knows only so many of them will stay in touch. It’s an inevitability of life that they’ll fall out of touch, drop off one by one until he’s left with the select few that will try so hard to fill the longing gap in his heart.

It’s life and he tells himself that over and over. It’s moving on and it’s looking upward and forward and it’s been inevitable since the start. It’s just… he’s never felt quite like this before. All his other teams, he cared, he looked back and smiled, but he never bonded like this until now. Here. Right here in this arena, this locker room, this beautiful city that was so much different from home. He’s never stood in a parking lot staring at a building and wanting to cry before and it’s… it’s new. It aches between his pecks and he can’t help but rub at it idly as he stares at the bricks that house his final goodbye. A practice he’s not supposed to show up for, that started fifteen minutes ago. Something he couldn’t make himself walk away from. 

His next breath is a shaky one and he steels himself: his heart, his will, his emotions. He won’t run away without a goodbye like a coward. He’s never been a coward. How could he be when he uses his own body to block frozen rubber nearly every day of his life? 

He’s known cowards in this business before. He’s watched a few of them leave this team, silent and disappearing overnight. Those things hurt. Hurt him, hurt the team. He won’t be like that. _Can’t_ be like that with his brotherhood. 

His feet take him where he needs to go, every step feeing like the beginning of a path to the end and he has to shore up those walls around himself a little bit more as he goes. By the time he gets to the rink, he’s trying not to let his heartbeat run away from him, has swallowed back his grief at least ten times, and he hasn’t even run into anybody yet. It’s early and the only door open is the one they all know how to jimmy just right to get in. He stands by silently, watches them practice and waits for the inevitable. 

All it takes is one of them, one glance from Keenan and he’s disrupted practice. Keenan’s hand shoots out and grabs Drew’s sleeve and that’s the end of it, both of them shrugging off everything else in the face of this. The rest of the team follows toward the doors and he goes with them, along the other side of the Plexiglas, his hands clenched in his pockets, everything in him stinging at what’s going to be so fucking hard he can barely stomach the idea of it happening.

Coach is there first, exchanging the warmest bro-hug he’s ever had, murmuring words of praise and thanks and luck and if he weren’t so nervous, maybe it would sink in and he’d be less frozen in place, but he dreads all of this as much as he wants to confront it and he’s not entirely sure he’s going to survive it intact.

He’s afforded the allowance of Laursen coming to him first, a bit apart from the others and while their exchange is silent, it still hurts like a freight train to his solar plexus. Kirk holds his shoulders, stares at him and purses his lips. There’s a watery sheen to his eyes they’ll never speak about and the hug is too long for bros and not long enough for how close they’ve become. They cling to each other and no one dares interrupt and he’s barely holding onto his tears when Kirk has to duck his head and hide his own when they finally part. He reaches out and squeezes his arm, does it hard and lets their eyes meet one last time then lets him go and grits his teeth against the emotion overflowing from inside him.

They’ll keep in touch, they have to. If it comes down to three people that will, he knows their names, has their phone numbers safely tucked in his phone, and has followed them on every social media known to man. 

He goes through most of the others in a similar manner, a varying degree of hug, all of which linger too long, an exchange of well-wishes and soft agreements to keep in touch, a congratulations that each of them truly means, and a distinct lack of the word goodbye. He knows it’s on purpose and he accepts it like he accepted he was doing this today.

The others scatter, going back to the rink and practice leaving him, Drew, and Keenan standing there in a loose circle and if he’s being honest, the first and the last things he has to today are what he dreaded the most: Kirk and then saying goodbye to these two.

The things they’ve shared, the conversations, the card games, the confessions. These two know more about him than his own parents do: more of his truths, more of his inner workings. Hell, they know enough to ruin him if they chose, but he could never seem them trying. 

He stares at them until he can barely swallow his tears away and it’s Drew that steps forward and slings an arm over his shoulders and guides him toward the locker room. They slip inside and move to sit around his old stall, Drew on one side, Keenan on the other and he lets himself cry, the first silent tears dripping down onto his shirt. He wasn’t afraid to admit a million other things about himself in front of these two, he’s not afraid to show them this either.

They tuck their arms around him, warmth of both sides of him, and he revels in what will probably be the last time they’ll ever manage this particular action. He cries himself out, dries his face, and turns to Keenan first, easily sliding into his arms and tucking his head against his Captain’s neck, whispering out a watery, “You better keep in touch,” and receiving a quiet sniff and a, “Why the fuck wouldn’t I?” in return. 

They hold on for what feels like forever, Drew’s hand rubbing light circles on his lower back and he memorizes how this feels, too. Drew’s touch, Keenan’s scent and his tight hold. It takes forever before he feels like he can pull himself away and turn to Drew. 

He’s drawn in close, held just as tightly here and he does the same process, as if it were written somewhere he has to memorize it all. Drew’s scent, the feeling of his strong arms around him, the way his hand feels just slightly pushed up into his sweaty hair. Keenan’s hand on his thigh, a warm and gentle pressure to keep him grounded.

He finally finds his voice and all he gets out is, “Drew,” before he’s quietly hushed, Drew pulling back and then framing his face with ice-cool fingers. “Do you honestly think we’d ever stop talking to you? You could go to the moon and we’d find a way.”

Something tight eases in his chest and he nods, fighting the newest wave of tears, a tremble in his fingertips as he slides his own over Drew’s and closes his eyes. 

He’s wanted something for months now, felt it burning bright inside him again and again and it’s so hard not to take it right now, sitting between them. But it would only cause them all grief, make the ache worse and the distance longer and he can’t do that to them even if it means regretting it for the rest of his life, and he gently pulls Drew’s hands away and stands. 

He has everything and nothing to say. He wants to tell them all of how he’s felt all these months but he can’t possibly do that. He wants to tell them how much everything’s meant to him and how he knows their secret, too, even if they haven’t told him, but he doesn’t want to leave with any doubt in their minds as to if he’ll ever tell. He wants to whisper that this is more than brotherhood to him, that he’s breaking so hard because it feels like leaving part of his heart behind, but he doesn’t want the explanation of how a relationship is two, not three, and particularly not long distance. He shoves his hands in his pockets and stares at the floor. 

He makes it all of two steps before he can’t stop the inevitable. He’s known it was coming, known he couldn’t leave without it since he signed that paper with the Union rep. He has to face them to do it, has to see for sure that they think he’s ridiculous, and he does it, turning on one foot and studying them.

“We’re alone?”

“Yeah.” Drew’s soft answer makes his gaze jerk to his face and he gives a single nod before diving in headfirst. 

“Leaving is so hard. I know it’s my future and I want it; like seriously want it. It’s just… I wanted other things, too. I wanted,” he hesitates. He can’t take it back if he says it, can’t deny if he’s this blunt. He does it anyway, “to be with you. Both of you.”

He faces it, headfirst and how he’s faced everything else in his life and he sees the instant it clicks for Keenan and then for Drew. Drew opens his mouth, but Keenan beats him to it, leaning forward and bracing his arms on his thighs. 

“All you ever had to do was ask. It’s not like we’d have turned you away. I mean, you basically were with us anyway.”

Drew’s quiet, “We wanted it, too,” doesn’t escape his notice and it all makes him feel like he’s missed something so enormous the world might end because he doesn’t have it now and he has to sit down or he’s going to fall down. He plops back between them and buries his head in his hands and whispers, “I’m stupid…”

“Not stupid.” Drew nudges him with his knee and Keenan reaches to rub his back and this time they both hug him and he listens to every word that’s peppered over him. Promises of trying it long distance and summer plans and all he has to do is say yes and he breathes out, “Yes,” in the instant before Drew’s mouth is on his, all warmth and chapped hockey player lips and it lights a fire inside him he’s long kept on simmer, bursts it into flames and he whimpers into the kiss before he’s turned and the process starts all over again with Keenan. It’s different and yet similar, heavier in the way he kisses but he tastes the same, as if they’ve shared so much that it’ll never rub off of one another. His lips are less chapped, but the way he tongues at his mouth is the same and he sighs into it, content and pleased and trying to live off of this for the next however many months to come.

They part and he leans back and whispers, “Kiss for me…” and they do and he watches it with fixed interest, feeling alive and wonderful in the face of it. It’s gorgeous and he revels, beyond pleased.

Their kiss ends and they hold him between them and wish him all the best and make him promise to Skype them once he’s at college and yeah, he’s going to do that if it kills him. 

They leave the locker room together and part ways in the hallway. He goes out the side door and they go back to practice as he takes one final look at the arena that was expanded just for them and he puts his hand on the brick and he says his thanks.

When he walks away, he doesn’t look back. He doesn’t have to because now he can look forward and still see some of his past. He looks forward and he sees hope and that’s all that’s ever mattered.


End file.
